Kingmaker: Interlude I, Thor TDW
by oblivion7
Summary: Loki escapes the death penalty thanks to his mother-and in spite of Odin's dread of keeping him alive.


KINGMAKER: INTERLUDE 1, Thor TDW

"Wife!" Odin barked sharply, his eyes glaring in dark fury. "You raise my ire with your requests! Loki has broken every law he was taught, and now he must pay just as any other would!"

Frigga was unmoved; her cool elegance served only to make his temper burn even more. She kept the humor in her eyes despite the pain and worry she really felt.

"Husband," she crooned, looking as fresh as summer against the backdrop of the afternoon sky. "I do not dispute that he has…erred." She ignored his snort of disgust. "But think before you act. He is, after all, the last heir to the throne of Jotun—and like it or not, he does have the mind and blood of Asgard flowing in his icy veins."

Odin gave her a baleful glance. "So? For this I should ignore that he nearly destroyed an entire planet? No one has that right!"

She nodded. "Just remember, though, that the others are watching. To show such extreme prejudice against him when even Thor has done his own share of wanton destruction could send a message that is wrongly interpreted."

He turned away in silence, his back stiff and his manner unrelenting. But she saw that he was thinking on her words, and knew she had his attention.

"I ask only that you see through your heart that he once looked to you as father, and you are still the only father he knows," she continued. "The other realms must know that while Asgard holds it princes accountable for their actions, it does not treat a foundling with greater severity than its own warriors, who have more than once decimated complete star systems…"

Odin turned to protest but she held up her hand. "…while they were still inhabited," she finished firmly. "And even you, husband, should remember the days when villages were nearly razed to the ground as you and your friends played 'games'."

Odin sighed, but as his eyes glanced toward the staff representing his apparent absolute authority, the truth came to him again and he felt his heart harden. He dared not tell her his real fear; he had caused enough trouble by bringing Loki home in the first place. His own father had warned him…but he was king now, and would do whatever he felt necessary for the good of the realms to insure a peaceful future.

One without Loki.

Odin raised his head, managing a slight smile. "You are the best part of my conscience," he told her, giving her a soft embrace. "I will consider your thoughts—but nevertheless he must pay for what he has done."

She nodded in agreement, feeling it best to say nothing further. At least she could entertain honest hope that her dark child would live a while longer.

* * *

Odin could still hear the clatter of ankle chains against the stone floor, the grinding of the wrist restraints as the prisoner was led away. Worse, he felt the dread, pain and explosive anger so tangible that it disturbed the normally tranquil atmosphere of the throne room.

Of course Loki deserved the sentence he received. Ungrateful, disloyal, unruly and untrustworthy, Loki's crimes had actually demanded execution instead of permanent imprisonment. Thrashing him with the unkind truth that the bastard owed his life to Asgard was churlish on his part as liege—but Odin quickly dismissed it as a justifiable whipping to add to the confinement.

Yet he couldn't erase that soulful look of a lost child betrayed by someone he once trusted, the searing hurt that words could burn into the soul when used as a weapon… Yes, Loki would have died if not rescued. But the reminder by his king and step-father was a merciless twisting of the knife that was ruthless even for Odin. What dismayed him more, though, was the majestic look Loki managed to maintain through it all, the steady gaze that showed no lasting fear for his future. This gave dire justification for Loki's unapologetic tone that held no regrets. It was as if he knew that in some way he would regain what he was about to lose…

Odin had seen the same confident supremacy in the eyes of others in a similar position—all of whom had once been temporarily supplanted kings, rulers, and monarchs.

Odin shook his head, clearing the vision. No, it wasn't only guilt over the pleasure he felt from causing Loki such deep pain that kept him seated on the throne in an empty room. He was dreading what he was about to face when he stepped from the throne room and became husband once again.

Nothing gave unease to the king of Asgard so much as the consternation of his wife when she was angered. And he knew from her stiff spine as she had stalked away by his command that he would be fortunate to maintain a quiet life when she finished with him.

* * *

"You accuse _him_ of selfish cruelty, yet you try to destroy him by using his birth as a weapon!" she raged. "In that light, what makes you different from him? It's as if…_you_ were more his true father than any Jotun!"

Odin bristled, barely keeping himself in check. "I am king of Asgard," he seethed. "We spoke of this once and you know my mind on this matter! No son of mine—native born or foundling—will speak to me as he did. I will not tolerate it!"

She withdrew a step, realizing that she was treading too close to his full wrath. Their earlier conversation had been as fleeting as wind; once seated as monarch, she had seen how his eyes went cold the instant Loki came into his presence. The fact that Loki failed to show the slightest remorse had only served to justify Odin's ill temper_**.**_

"You have never truly loved him as a son," she went on, lowering her voice.

"I endeavored to treat him the same as all the other children," he snapped in defense.

She looked deep into his face. "Except Thor," she said softly. "There was never a doubt who was first born both in birth order and in your heart. Yet you still let Loki think he could take the throne at some point in the future."

"I planned for him to take _a_ throne," Odin retorted. "Just not _this _one. But he has always been distant from me, even though I saw how hard he tried to compete with Thor…"

His voice trailed, tinged with regret. But Frigga could not so easily forgive his remarks.

"From the start, Loki was my son," she responded, forcing herself not to console him. "I love Thor with all my heart but he is and always has been yours. It was Loki and I who shared a deeply special bond, one that even I did not understand—and did not need to."

Odin looked at her, trying to see past the anxious gaze and the agony in her heart. "Very true," he said gently. "But I cannot be king and allow my own child—whether born or fostered—to break every law of decency and grace without retribution. However harsh you see my sentence of him, it is still more than he deserves. Anyone else would have been executed and even you would not have stayed my word."

"Does that include Thor?" she whispered, though she knew the answer.

Odin stiffened. "Especially Thor," he shot back. "I would have done it myself."

Frigga dropped to her knees, placing her hands on Odin's lap in supplication. "May I at least see him? Just once…he is so alone, and never more so than now…"

"No." The word was final, but Odin's anger and passion had dissolved. She could feel the conflict in him, the refusal to admit that in many ways Loki was more like him than Thor would ever be—a fact that would have made him a frightful ruler. "No one is to see him for any reason. His isolation will encourage him to reflect on his choices—though it will not avail him, since he will never leave the confines of that prison. And not even you will know his fate; he will die in obscurity and will be remembered only as a shadow."

Frigga raised her eyes with a look of sorrow, but said nothing. He reached down to her cheek, hating to see her so mournfully unhappy.

"I have work to do, wife," he said affectionately. "We will speak of this no more. Let us find solace in repairing the damage being done to the realms, and in knowing that at least Loki is not fully responsible for all the madness."

Odin turned away, taking his staff as he left her behind. He breathed a sigh of relief when he was positive he was out of her hearing. Uncomfortable as it was, the encounter had been better than he expected. Maybe she had seen reason, he told himself as he walked; even a queen-mother had to understand the importance of discipline in the royal family. With a shrug he was determined to put it out of his mind. The problem had been resolved, the end made certain, and just as he had always planned, the first born of his progeny would now safely rule Asgard.

As he moved, he felt a shiver of cold creep along his skin. Odd, he thought, suppressing a smile; he never thought getting older would start with sensitivity to a chill. But he stopped when he realized this was no ordinary shudder caused by an intemperate breeze.._**.**_

Looking at his hand, the lights between the shadows glinted off the staff—and played on the thin layer of crystalline white haze that shrouded it.

Flexing his fingers in irritation, Odin shook his hand free of the wintry glaze, cursing Loki for what seemed to be a last annoying prank. But he stopped short when he realized that such an act was impossible-shackled as he was by chains that drained away his magic ability, there was not even room for Loki to have moved a finger—besides which he was, by now, well entombed below. No, this was beyond his foundling son's talents… and, it seemed, even his own.

His jaw tightened in anger. No! Nothing would stand in the way of the future he set in motion for Asgard. The line would continue as it always had, and no pretender would take the golden throne. He would make his own history, writing destiny as he saw necessary, taking the steps along the path he knew must happen a particular way to maintain the safety and stability of the worlds forced into submission by his father and grandfather ages ago.

Pausing in the veil between the columns, Odin held the staff in front of him and swallowed his alarm at the manifestation that was now within it. The flickering was brief; it receded once he acknowledged that it was no illusion. By all appearances Gungir once again became his, and he had to lean against the thick pillar in relief as he refocused his mind. There were enough problems to be faced without having to fight for his own throne-such as the one of Thor's obsession with a female from Midgard, of all places…

But he could not ignore the gelid prickling that shyly sought to again insist its way around his fingers.

* * *

When she was no longer able to hear her husband's bootsteps on the marbled floor, Frigga rose to her feet and glided over to the balcony, watching the sunlight play in the fountains. Now that they had cleared the air between them and she was alone, she let a slow smile of mischief come to her face.

She would obey, as a wife and queen should; she had no desire to step into the dungeons anyway. But she and Loki shared secrets that even Odin could not comprehend, and nothing would keep her away from her twilight child for long. There were many ways to get around in Asgard, and while Odin knew them as well as she, he was far too occupied to pay attention to her occasional disappearances.

And she would see to it that Loki would one day have his freedom—whatever the cost.


End file.
